


Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

by Ibbyliv



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Everyone is girls, F/F, Female Enjolras, Female Grantaire, Fluff, Genderbending, Genderfluid Character, Genderswap, Internet Friends, Internet Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Non-Binary Feuilly, Non-Binary Jehan, Non-Binary Montparnasse, Online Friendship, Online Relationship, Seriously even the girls are girls, Social Justice, Sort of Tumblr sjw AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibbyliv/pseuds/Ibbyliv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No matter what you blog about or who you follow, porn will inevitably end up on your dashboard at some point or another.” That was what Courfeyrac had said when Enjolras decided to start a blog to update the news of their social justice group and she had sincerely hoped that her best friend was wrong. Turns out that she wasn’t. Courfeyrac had spent enough years reblogging cat gifs and at the same time starting successful petitions against sexual discrimination to know these things.</p><p>An Anonymous sends Enjolras that they ship her with Grantaire, the pessimistic blogger who finds amusement in mocking their cause. Enjolras doesn't know anything.<br/>She doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I saw you choke as the last bridge broke, and our fingers waved goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was supposed to be an one-shot but it reached 9000 words so I stopped and decided to post this and then maybe continue.  
> Everyone here is girls. Even the girls are girls. I know this is not really diverse but come on, there's not nearly enough girls in Les Mis and I think we deserve more and MORE representation what do you think? Also I had real fun writing it, and I hope they're not terribly OOC.
> 
> Jehan, Montparnasse and Feuilly are non-binary because I seriously needed that. I did research on pronouns etc but if I've got anything wrong out of ignorance please please tell me so that I won't be offending anyone, thank you so much!
> 
> The title is from the song Vanilla Twilight by Owl City which I had on repeat while writing this bc it seriously is the best long distance relationship song.  
> The first song Enjolras sends to Grantaire is Heavy Stone by Kyla la Grange.  
> There probably are some embarrassing typos and definitely me misgendering my female characters (not on purpose) after being used to write them male for so long.
> 
> Special thanks to [Screamingpoet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Screamingpoet/pseuds/Screamingpoet) for her immense help and opinions (also for 'Salazar' which I inevitably stole as it has become part of my daily vocabulary) and to [StarberryCupcake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/StarberryCupcake/pseuds/StarberryCupcake) for always being there and being amazing (I know that femslash is not her thing and seriously I don't expect her to read this but I promise I'm working on my other /big/ story which I really hope she'll like). Both of them are true gems and I'm incredibly lucky to have them <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song 'Heavy Stone' by Kyla la Grange.

“No matter what you blog about or who you follow, porn will inevitably end up on your dashboard at some point or another.” That was what Courfeyrac had said when Enjolras decided to start a blog to update the news of their social justice group and she had sincerely hoped that her best friend was wrong. Turns out that she wasn’t. Courfeyrac had spent enough time reblogging cat gifs and at the same time starting successful petitions against sexual discrimination to know these things.

Now Enjolras finds herself scrolling past soft artsy porn, feeling quite unamused because she’s on this site for some serious work as no one actually sees her Twitter and Facebook is ridiculous. She appreciates the movement by social justice bloggers here, it’s at least something and some of those people actually know what they’re talking about and manage to stir others. She’s also been used to the occasional hipster picture with the Vans and the tea and the massive sweaters (even Courfeyrac has those on her blog and she _is_ her childhood friend) and she finds the ‘science side’ (of which Combeferre is an active member) rather interesting but porn, _that_ she won’t handle on her dashboard.

Courfeyrac chuckles and shoves her away from her chair. “Here, you’ll just have to blacklist nsfw and pray for the better.” Her friend’s quirky eyes are caught by the picture on the screen and she whistles. “Holy frick this is _good_!”

“Courfeyrac!” groans Enjolras but Courfeyrac shakes her head with the dark pixie haircut and holds up a hand with perfect red murderous claws.

“This is actually _good,_ wait a minute I just want to check that profile.”

Enjolras throws her blond head back in exasperation while Courfeyrac makes some unintelligible noises. “How did you follow that, it’s full of soft porn! Grantaire 21, drinks and masturbates for a living, knows only of liberty and love. Woohoo!” Enjolras grimaces in annoyance. “Doesn’t have a selfie though, or pronouns.”

“Well that’s okay,” Enjolras elbows Courfeyrac out of the way, “because I’m unfollowing them.”

“Do as you may,” Courfeyrac shrugs her shoulders, getting up from the desk. “I’m doing the exact opposite though. That’s some lovely photography.”

And with that she leaves the room, shaking her hips rather dramatically in her tight leggings. Enjolras falls on her chair with a tired sigh, ready to continue her work. The page is still open. Out of pure curiosity she scrolls down a bit. Porn does not shock her even though Courfeyrac thinks she’s a chaste, virginal Artemis capable of being terrible. This blog however is not only porn. There’s some art, especially sculpture, most of it classical. There are also some drunken text posts with no notes and, Enjolras realizes with disgust, anti-sjw snark. They’re not spiting hate but they’re laughing at things that people find as exaggerations and diminishing the effort made through the Internet as useless and incompatible with the actual problems. Enjolras doesn’t know when and how she followed that blog but she knows very well she won’t deal with pessimism and cynicism right now. Feeling rather upset for her lost time, she hits unfollow.

*

_Cool, another follower lost._

“R, you in there?” It’s Eponine knocking on the bathroom door and Grantaire groans. “Some of us need to take a piss, y’know.”

“One can’t even jerk off in peace here,” she mocks her friend in a hoarse voice.

“In the fucking _bathroom_?”

“Jesus just wait, I’ll be out in a minute,” sighs Grantaire, pulling her ankles on the toilet seat and continuing to scroll down, balancing her cigarette between her lips. Her eyes fall on a long text post that appears on the screen of her phone. Of course. _Of course._ She can hardly hold the smile that appears on her face. After taking a drag of smoke, she finishes reading the naïve rant. She’s had enough to drink again and, before she can think about it, her finger’s playing with the Ask button. She lets a small cackle, her long, drunk and eloquent response already formed in her spinning head. Inhaling the last drag of smoke greedily, she ticks the Anonymous box.

When Grantaire wakes up, there’s a huge, angry reply to her arguments, expectedly enough telling her off for her anonymity as well. She’s feeling fairly amused, that’s better than porn, even better than pizza. Deciding there’s nothing to hide, she sends another sarcastic message, pointing out the impossibilities that Enjolras is suggesting as a solution and waits patiently.

She doesn’t know what’s been attracting her on that blog all this time. She usually laughed at the amount of righteous anger that the ‘warriors’ treated things with, at the fact that all of their battle was held from behind a computer screen, on flowery Internet blogs. She found reason in everything they said, she really did. She had been affected by the things they fought against more than once herself, but she knew that their efforts would always be fruitless if all they decided to do was continue what they were currently doing. Enjolras, however, was a different story. France, 19, white female law student, red minimalistic theme and the most passionate posts Grantaire had read in her life. It was Jehan that she found her through, as her friend had been following Enjolras since the beginning of her blog and was rather passionate about her political views. Enjolras truly believed what she was saying, that was obvious, and even though the naivety in it was visible, Grantaire found this conviction quite fascinating. It had become a habit to return home and check her blog. Sometimes she even found herself clinging desperately on those fervent opinions, on the possibility of a world that would change, a world where she’d belong in but then she’d sober herself up and face the gloomy, boring reality once again.

She didn’t know how she felt about the fact that Enjolras not only did not ignore her, but kept replying to her with well-formed arguments and an insistent tone, angry but always willing to explain and to convince her even though Grantaire made perfectly clear that she was a lost cause.

They form a habit, it goes on for several days and Grantaire becomes slowly addicted. She should have expected it. Addiction is her area of expertise, excess is the air she smokes. She stoically accepts it and refreshes the page until the red notification sign appears again and again, making something leap in the pit of her stomach.

Until the selfie day.

Grantaire would never have expected it. She doesn’t know why she says that but she would never, _never_ have expected a selfie from Enjolras and god she’s the most stunning person on Earth, Grantaire can’t breathe, Grantaire needs a drink or twenty. Her skin is pale and smooth and splotched with rose, her cherry lips are full and pressed in a serious expression, eyelashes heavy and long golden locks surrounding her angelic face which somehow manages to fit with her whole punk rock style. She’s wearing a red leather jacket and a leather band around her pale neck. Grantaire faintly notices the caption, Courfeyrac posted it on her profile for the Still Not Asking For It Week – of course, Grantaire follows both Courfeyrac and Combeferre – but Grantaire doesn’t care, Grantaire will never care for anything else because she considers flushing herself down the toilet and disappearing from the world of mortals because she wants to do Enjolras and she wants to _be_ Enjolras but most of all she wants Enjolras to be safe and happy and surrounded by beautiful things because she can’t be human, she’s a goddess and Grantaire can’t breathe.

She’s already hit the small heart beneath the picture and is now swearing through her teeth because _shitshitshit_ Enjolras will see it but it’s too late, the notification has probably already appeared on her computer so Grantaire goes offline and buries her face in the pillow until next afternoon.

*

 **[Anonymous says :** omg I hella ship you with Grantaire. **]**

Enjolras’ expression is blank as she stares on the screen, already annoyed at the mention of Grantaire’s name before standing up and walking at the kitchen where Combeferre and Courfeyrac are discussing the pamphlets. “Does either of you know what ‘ship’ means?”

Combeferre chokes on her tea and has to take off her glasses because they fill with steam. Courfeyrac raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow until it’s lost under a dark tuft of hair. “Jesus how do you even survive on that site?”

Combeferre clears her throat. “Is it a Cumberbitch blog?”

“A what?” Enjolras seems briefly confused, then waves her hand dismissively. “Never mind. An Anonymous sent me they _ship_ me with Grantaire?”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchange a glance and Enjolras is feeling quite annoyed at what they’re not sharing with her. “Do you think this has anything to do with the fact that Grantaire finally left me alone?”

“When was the last time you quarreled through your Askboxes, Enjolras?” asks Courfeyrac.

“Uh, two days ago.”

She exchanges another glance with Combeferre and the latter turns to Enjolras. “Come on, we need to get these finished until tomorrow morning.”

*

“Right. She’s Artemis, the fierce goddess of the Internet. I get that. Now tell me again what’s the problem and you can’t sext a bit and then shut up about it?”

Grantaire buries her face in Eponine’s thigh and curls up on the bed. She feels a hand coming to rest on her hair, Jehan. She’s so fucking ashamed of herself, and all she wants is to get shitfaced and forget about the existence of a person who lives thousands of miles away, a person who probably despises her with all the power of her being.

“She hates me, can’t you see?”

“I don’t think she hates you,” Jehan says in an absent minded voice, nudging Grantaire’s hip with xyr foot. When Grantaire shows clearly that she’s not about to move from her fetal position, Jehan rests xyr ankles on her back. “After all she has some really good opinions that you keep mocking, and she’s tolerating that well enough.”

“Because I’m barely tolerable, that’s what I am.”

“Fuck you, don’t place words I haven’t said in my mouth! Also she’s immediately asked you for your pronouns. She seems caring enough. What did you answer, by the way?”

“She and her. That’s still on. I mean, I didn’t go on talking to her all about those days. She wouldn’t care.”

Eponine grabs Grantaire’s phone from her hands. “Let me see her again,” she mutters. Grantaire simply lets her and the three of them pile on Eponine’s sides, their eyes on the small screen. Eponine types the link and it loads. The first thing they see makes Grantaire forget how to breathe.

The last post is a video and the three of them watch it without speaking. Grantaire can’t believe it has happened to her even though it’s not something unexpected. Enjolras is looking furious, flushed and angry, her glorious hair pulled away from her face which is a mask of anger. Grantaire’s heart is pounding dully in her meninges and she catches a few words. _Catcall… afraid to return home… why… patriarchy… speak, fight, NOW._

“They followed her home,” breathes Jehan, xyr face pulled with anger, as if they haven’t already understood what they heard. “Fucking assholes, I want to eat them alive.”

Grantaire isn’t listening anymore to Eponine and Jehan’s angry feminist rant. She stands up and without a second thought, sits in front of her laptop and hits Enjolras’ ask button.

*

 **[Grantaire says:** hope you’re ok I’m seriously so fuckin angry Jehan wants to make a throne out of their skulls and send it to you for your bday. u’d get along much better w/Jehan, you’d agree almost in everything. sorry for giving u shit I don’t always mean it you know. apart from when I do. take care and tell me if you want me to fly en France and punch the shit out of anybody **]**

Enjolras’ heart is beating too fast for her thoughts to follow a proper order right now. It took a while for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to help her calm down and distract her with their newest plans. They were both extremely worried and that showed, and Enjolras isn’t still ready to deal with all the messages she’s receiving.

And then there is Grantaire.

In all her anger and anxiety she finds herself smiling a smile that hasn’t appeared on her stressed lips in days, and she rereads the message feeling an unusual warmth spreading in her chest.

 **[Enjolras says:** Thank you for your concern and do not worry, I can deal with douchebags on my own well enough. Plus their size would probably prevent us both from attacking them physically. **]**

The reply comes shortly after.

 **[Grantaire says:** I kickbox **]**

That brings a second shaky smile that plays on her lips and the notification sign flashes.

 **[Grantaire says:** be careful **]**

The smile disappears from her face as fast as it appeared.

 **[Enjolras says:** I DON’T HAVE TO BE CAREFUL WHAT’S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND society needs to change, it’s not women who should be careful, it’s men who should not objectify them!!! **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** no shit Sherlock **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** exclamation mark **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** society won’t change, Artemis **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** It certainly won’t if people keep having your attitude. And don’t call me that. Also please try to place all your sentences in one message, if that’s not hard enough to accomplish. **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** ok **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** tho promise **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** you’ll be careful **]**

Enjolras draws in a deep breath.

 **[Enjolras says:** Why would I promise you anything? I don’t even know you. **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** gnight Artemis **]**

*

She’s already drunk and drooling, half asleep in the smelly pile of cushions that serves as her bed when Jehan and Eponine come to drag her out by force. “Don’t pretend you fucking forgot it was tonight.”

She whines and groans more than she feels like just to get on their nerves and eventually lets them dress her up and do her makeup. When she learns that Montparnasse is waiting outside she enhances her effort to do every preparation painfully slowly.

“You look smoking hot,” says Jehan when the three of them finally stand in front of the foggy bathroom mirror to inspect their accomplishment. Jehan xemself is gorgeous, purple lipstick and feathers and the inevitable tulle, xyr auburn hair a nymph worthy complex creation of braids. Eponine is equally hot with all her piercings and army boots and leather skirt. “I’d bang myself if I were you.”

“You know, you can still bang me without being me. That would spare you – and me – most of the existential clone homo or psychopath angst.”

“Come on losers, Parnasse is going to eat zyr blazer if we make zem wait any longer.”

Montparnasse does indeed look quite scary when they see zem waiting outside the building and Grantaire feels satisfied enough for having succeeded in pissing zem off. Zyr curves are fitted in the raddest black tailored suit there is, a pair of glass goggles hiding zyr massive vicious eyelashes. Nothing would have looked more like blood than zyr red lipstick against zyr transparent skin and the shaven side of zyr head looks like a spider’s nest. In a cool way. Also scary. And douchey.

The bar is dark and full of smoke, people are plastered against each other, their whole bodies pounding to the beat of the music. Grantaire doesn’t keep account of things that happen. She drinks and she drinks more, this is just not enough for her so she drinks as much as she can get in her hands, mixing stuff she shouldn’t mix and smoking one cigarette after the other. Soon she’s shoved back against a wall with Montparnasse’s cold hands all over her, teeth forming the first hickey on her neck, a thigh pressed against her leather pants and she’s gasping, her eyelids slide shut and her head falls back in ecstasy. The room is spinning even with shut eyes – _especially_ behind shut eyes – and everything feels good – until it starts feeling strange. The hands under her t-shirt are not cold anymore, instead they’re warm and soft and she finds herself burying her fingers in wild curls that smell of sunshine and Parisian mornings, not in hair straight and silk like knives, suddenly it’s Enjolras breathing heavily against her mouth and Grantaire is going fucking crazy.

“You’re really fucking wasted,” Montparnasse pulls away and raises an eyebrow. “I don’t have time for this shit tonight, let’s get you to Ponine okay loser?”

Ze says that almost tenderly and Grantaire desperately clings on zem. Everything is spinning and Eponine takes hold of her, swearing loudly when they find her. Grantaire throws up as soon as they’ve reached the exit.

*

 **[Enjolras says:** Sorry about the way I talked to you yesterday. I understand your excusable worry but you need to understand that I’ve solely devoted myself to a cause and I cannot act like a scared child in this. **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** it’s ok but I can’t do this now, I’m hungover **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** Why do you drink? **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** dunno why do you breathe? **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** Look, we don’t have to be on these terms. I know you heavily dislike me and diminish everything I do and believe in, but at least give me a chance to help you if there’s anything you need. Combeferre is even better at that, I know you follow her, why don’t you try chatting with her? **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** ur not my therapist **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** thats not what I need Artemis **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** I don’t need to be fixed **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** everything’s easy for u and ur pretty face **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** Woah there, okay, I see how it is. I don’t know why the internet is making such a big deal of it and I knew that Courfeyrac shouldn’t have posted that selfie but we need to discuss this, okay. I feel like there are things to discuss. **]**

 **[Grantaire says:** there’s nth to discuss **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** It would be highly convenient if you gave me your Skype. **]**

 **[Enjolras says:** Want to give me your Skype? **]**

*

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:31]** hey sorry I didn’t come in earlier I had a huge fight with my parents

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:31]** again

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:32]** your life is so dramatic you should be a novel not a blog

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:33]** I’m not a blog I’m a person and shitty parents exist in real life

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:33]** I’m kidding

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:33]** it’s weird to talk to u on here

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:34]** feels like I know u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:34]** well you kind of know me

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:35]** this is overwhelming

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:35]** but I’m late for work

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:35]** send me about those parents of yours if it helps, I’ll try to steal some wifi

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:36]** will we talk later?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:36]** yeah

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:36]** send to me

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:36]** don’t be sad Artemis

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:37]** come on send me a smiley face

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:37]** :)

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:37]** what has this world come to

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:37]** fuck you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:37]** and thank you

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:38]** smile, Artemis

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:38]** the skies smile when u smile

*

This is not what Enjolras does. She would never have expected to check her phone every other minute, to check not the process of their plans, but the new messages coming from a person she supposedly disliked as if her life depended upon them. Most of them contained the other girl’s usual sarcasm and bitterness, very few indicated things about her own life even though Enjolras pressed her to let her know her even better. They form some sort of a deal, ending up being relatively nice to each other (which surprises everyone who knows about it) yet their fights are recurrent and epic when they happen. Both of them refuse to apologize and Enjolras realizes that she’s feeling sick for the rest of the day, until they gradually start talking to each other again, as if this is an addiction they cannot get rid of.

“Let’s go out,” says Courfeyrac. “You’re on your phone all day,” says Combeferre. “I’m checking the petition,” replies Enjolras without taking her eyes away from the phone, the same trembling sensation in the pit of her stomach every time it vibrates on the table. Her small exploding snickers at the jokes and her distant smiles when she reads are completely new to her friends who have teased her more than once about it but they don’t seem to understand: Combeferre has always been a soulmate to her, one who’d speak her own thoughts, and she loved Courfeyrac very deeply, as well as her other friends. This virtual friendship, however, with a person whom she knew nothing about, not even what they looked like, brought a mystery that Enjolras very much needed. What had started as an equal effort to stir the faith in every faceless person behind their screens had now turned to something that made her want to bang her head against a wall with frustration, but also to empower her arguments and, occasionally, to put a smile on her face through the day. She doesn’t know how Grantaire feels about her. Her attitude is somewhat worshipping but Enjolras can feel the mockery in every word and instead of putting an end to it all, they continue.

“This is fucking hilarious,” Courfeyrac crosses her toned legs under her tiny skirt as Enjolras scrolls refreshes the page on her laptop. She raises her eyes at her friend, having no idea what she’s talking about whatsoever. “Oh god this is precious I should take a picture of your face,” Courfeyrac continues with a small chuckle. “You haven’t stopped blushing and squirming during the whole meeting!” Enjolras blushes even further, angry she has let that thing she cannot quite understand happen to herself. “Grantaire is a friend,” she says and means it, “and it’s interesting to share my opinions with her.”

Because there are those nights, in a dark room under the covers, several finished mugs of coffee on the floor, when the others are sleeping and she’s exhausted and torn after hours of work and stress and all the different issues they have to face, when the rock ballads they exchange and the silly links she pretends to be superior to are exactly what she needs, and soon her eyelids are drooping with a faint grin on her face.

Enjolras falls asleep with her phone in her palm.

*

“How’s it going?”

“How’s what going?”

“Enjolras. How’s it going?”

Grantaire’s gaze doesn’t meet Jehan’s. “Nothing’s going anywhere. She says stupid things. I say drunk things. We fight. She gets all cute and flustered with righteous fury, or so I imagine. She’s a nerd. I’m hopelessly and woefully in love with her. That is my life.”

She doesn’t notice Jehan approaching her carefully behind her back and leaning closer to read their Skype conversation. “I think she likes you.”

And that is the moment when everything goes to hell because Jehan doesn’t know, Jehan still sees romance everywhere even if the kind of romance xe prefers is a bit bloodier and contains skulls with flower crowns as well as the weirdest kinks one can name. Jehan doesn’t see that this is far from romantic – or Romantic – and that Grantaire is lucky enough that Enjolras barely tolerates her stalkerly behavior because she thinks she’s somehow helping a lost cause follow the path of the righteous and the revolutionary. And most of all, Jehan doesn’t see how these few words make everything ache even more because never before had Grantaire dared to consider “what if”, and now it hurts because it will never be that way and oh, what would Grantaire sacrifice to have that… 

Still, there is not a single day when she stops feeling blessed because these are not things that happen to her, when did she get so lucky as to hear such an extraordinary human being talk to her about her life, her problems and concerns, when did she get so lucky as to share her little triumphs and have someone send her good morning with every dawn that broke, after a night that finished with her staying awake with her pencils and cigarettes and Enjolras with her books and notes, the time difference hardly affecting them at all.

Sometimes she lies in bed imagining things she shouldn’t imagine, like the scent of spring on the skin of Enjolras’ neck, her room and apartment, the Parisian balcony she’d probably own and the lazy summer afternoons they could spend there, staring at the rooftops, Enjolras sitting at the sun, her milky thighs bare and sweet, her feet resting on Grantaire’s knees, and then Grantaire gets a bit off limits and imagine her cat Lautrec in Paris with them, rubbing her fur against Enjolras’ calves as the two of them would smoke together and take their coffee as if they were alone in the world. Grantaire then would run her fingers through Enjolras’ golden locks, she would spend a whole morning braiding flowers in it like Jehan has shown her, she’d get the privilege of pressing her lips on her chaste, rosy cheek and feel it pull in a faint grin and then lower, she would kiss her chin, every hollow on her throat, she would get to taste the insides of her lithe wrists and rest her forehead against her collarbones, breathless and desperate to have all of her and to have her forever.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:02]** I called my professor on his shit in front of the whole class.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:02]** I failed his class.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:02]** WHAT??

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:03]** I’ve failed his class. I’ve never failed a class in my entire life.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:03]** I’d guessed so

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:03]** shit, Enjolras

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:04]** No don’t you see

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:04]** I want to celebrate it

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:04]** I FAILED THE DIPSHIT’S CLASS

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:05]** cOUrf didn’t fail she buys me ice cream

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:05]** Enjolras are you ok?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:05]** are you drunk?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:06]** pls tell me courfeyrac didn’t give you any alcohol you must be rly fuckin lightweight

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** I’m not drunk I just failed the sexist pig’s class

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** I’m fucking ecstatic

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** It’s so hot today

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** I think could use a break

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:07]** I think you could

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:07]** I like the sun. I need to photosynthesize. We may go to Luxembourg gardens with Joly and Bossuet.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:08]** It’s gloomy and cold here

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:08]** I wish you would be here

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:08]** Joly and Bossuet would get along so well w/u

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:08]** I don’t think they would

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:09]** Of course they would why wouldn’t they?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:09]** And I’m sure you’d find Feuilly’s company really interesting.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:09]** u r very talkative today

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:10]** My hair’s rly long it’s uncomfortable

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:10]** can I see?

Grantaire didn’t really mean that, didn’t really expect the selfie that arrives but it’s Enjolras, her golden locks kissed by the sun and reaching past the end of the picture, her face pulled in an adorable grimace (Grantaire decides she should probably blame that on Courfeyrac). She’s looking so different from the punk selfie, soft and fresh and youthful, almost gentle, wearing what seems to be like a white sundress and Grantaire can’t handle this, Grantaire has died and gone to heaven.

_-or hell._

Enjolras sends her a song. Grantaire almost chokes on her beer.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:13]** seriously? I thought you only listened to ‘real music’.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:14]** There is no such thing as real music, Grantaire. Music serves a purpose and that is to stir the spirit and the belief in people in every era and society. We cannot only stick to a specific style or fashion even if the art produced then was remarkable.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:14]** let’s not have the art-for-the-sake-of-art conversation now

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:14]** that’s what I think too of course

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:15]** I just thought you were pretentious enough to think otherwise

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:15]** Fuck you Grantaire :)

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 13:15]** enjoy ur day aux jardins uwu

Grantaire falls back on the mattress with a pained groan. She can’t go on like that. She wish she could handle this better but this has gone beyond her control. Her head is throbbing violently – thanks Parnasse for the weird shit you gave us today – yet she clicks Play again on the song Enjolras sent her and tries to muffle the sound in her pillow. She lies on her stomach – sometimes it’s good that her whole body feels like a squishy pillow itself, she thinks bitterly – and shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shut every thought out of her head. She sees grey kaleidoscopic shapes and she’s satisfied for a while but she doesn’t need to see in order to feel her hair, the warmth of her palms against her abdomen, the electricity of her breath against her ear, pearl teeth against her pulse point and Grantaire is trembling all over.

_Bitten by the wind on a hard hard day and god I really want you to stay... Bitten by the tears and the burning fears that have smeared us both on the table…_

She swears again through gritted teeth, her hand slowly sliding under her abdomen and inside the waistband of her sweats. She’s feeling sick, so sick and disgusting but Enjolras is here, she’s here and she’s beautiful, her hands all over her body, her breath mingled with her own and Grantaire’s whole body is burning with fever. _Twisted, fucking pathetic,_ she repeats to herself and it somehow makes it even more intriguing. She touches herself almost mechanically, picking up her pace, panting in a struggle to keep her voice low and her thoughts even lower. She’s begging to be released, her limbs already shaking, she can feel Enjolras’ arms around her as she moves inside her, all of her and she dies again in her arms, _and again._

Grantaire collapses on the damp sheets, limp and breathless, hating every cell of her being, every breath that she exhales. Unable to form another thought, she turns on the cold, empty side of the mattress, and falls asleep.

*

She should have been used to it by now but she hasn’t, she keeps repeating it that she’s the one causing it to herself and she can stop it, she can help herself there is _no reason_ for it to happen, no reason for it to be weak. It’s all her fault she _knows_ that and she doesn’t know how she’s allowing herself to fuck up every time that things get a bit out of control, how can she forget how to breathe, how can she get that dying feeling, it is so wrong and Combeferre isn’t here, Courfeyrac isn’t here, she can’t worry Joly _she can’t._

She’s never failed a class in her life. She’s been well all this time when her parents hadn’t contacted her. Their petition had been going well, the response on their blog as well as the meetings had been so good, why did she have to blow it all in the air?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:48]** Artemis?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:52]** you there??

She doesn’t know why she’s doing this, she knows what’s coming and it’s horrible but she always needs to be alone so she doesn’t know why she’s pulling her laptop on her knees where she’s curled on the floor and types with shaking hands.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 16:53]** i cant

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:53]**??

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 16:54]** cant breathe

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:54]** Enjolras wtf r u talking about?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:54]** ENJOLRAS

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 16:54]** talk2me im ok

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:55]** no ur not ok

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:55]** jesus r u having a panic attack

**Idontgrancare is calling you**

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 16:56]** i dont want u to see me lyk tht

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 16:56]** JESUS FUCK just answer the frickin call dont turn ur cam on

There are tears streaming down her face and she can do it only until she can’t, she can’t breathe properly and the room is blurring around her, she honestly doesn’t know how she responds to the call but Grantaire’s hoarse voice is filling the room and she’s hearing it for the first time but she can’t concentrate on this because the walls are closing in around her.

“Enjolras are you crying? Shit of course you’re crying. Can you hear me?”

It sounds so distant yet it’s somehow assuring but it doesn’t help, Enjolras can’t reply because her heart is running a painful race out of her chest, her hands are numb and her head feels light and spinning.

“You need to breathe, okay? Please Enjolras, take a breath.”

“Can’t…” whimpers Enjolras, shutting her eyes tightly to block the blurry vision of the empty room around her.

“You can, you can do it. There is air, you just need to find a pace. Breathe with me now, inhale.” Her voice is gentle and sure, their internet connection thankfully steady enough and somehow Enjolras begins to follow her pace. “You are strong Enjolras, I’m here and I’m holding you, you are strong and smart and wonderful, you can do this, take a breath…”

Soon Enjolras’ breathing grows even and her heart rate slows down, she collapses on the floor, curling in a ball and pulling her knees to her chest. Her cheeks are stricken with tears and her sweaty body shaking with ugly sobs. The call is still on on her laptop and she’s burning with shame. “Sorry,” she mutters, “it was a bad day.”

She hears Grantaire exhaling with relief. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, it happens to everyone. Well, apart from scaring the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.”

Grantaire chuckles nervously. “For Salazar’s sake, your voice! You have an accent, you nerd!”

Enjolras hardly manages to not crack a tired smile. “Talk to me,” she hears herself saying, hugging her body as she regains composure. “Just talk to me.”

So Grantaire does.

*

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:26]** I had my hair cut.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:28]** I need a moment

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:28]** to process this abysmal piece of information

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:28]** you did WHAT??

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:28]** ohmygod I’m dying

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:29]** WHY?????

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:29]** WHY THE FUCK WOULD U DO THT TO UR BEAUTIFUL HAIR????

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:29]** Calm down

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:29]** I don’t know why you freak out

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:30]** It’s just hair

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:30]** it’s not just hair

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:30]** it’s the end of an era

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:30]** It was for charity Grantaire

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:31]** I gave it to charity

It was Grantaire’s turn to almost have a panic attack there and now she’s gasping in horror and making unintelligible noises. That piece of information makes her feel better – she hopes it does but she’s almost having an apoplexy and Enjolras will have to pay for what she did to her.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:31]** It’s like Courf’s

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:31]** Courf likes it

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 14:32]** They all like it

Grantaire growls menacingly.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:33]** selfie

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 14:34]** selfie or die

It’s not a selfie so Grantaire blames her shock on Courfeyrac’s photographic skills for one more time. What’s expected to be abominable is Enjolras and her bare, pale neck, a mop of blond locks falling dangerously over her eyes, a red bandana tied on her nerdy head. She’s sitting on a wooden floor like a cat, on the spot where the sun is entering through the window. She’s smiling and waving, in a marine red striped shirt that's huge on her thin body and a pair of capri pants that leave just a streak of her elegant ankles to be seen, complete with a pair of white tennis shoes. It’s Grantaire’s favorite picture of her so far.

She’s falling in love all over again.

*

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 15:32]** Was today ok?

It’s been thirty hours that Grantaire hasn’t been on and Enjolras is getting a really bad feeling. She keeps on checking her phone, tapping her foot nervously on the wood of the table, trying to remember whether she said something wrong in their last all-nighter.

“…Have you been hearing a word I’ve been saying?”

Enjolras raises her eyes startled to face a concerned Combeferre, fully dressed in her sweater vest and chinos, resting her back against the kitchen counter. “Sorry yes, the poll.”

“I stopped talking about the poll ten minutes ago… Enjolras, are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been looking a bit off lately.”

“Shit yeah, sorry. I just got a little distracted.”

“I can see that.” Combeferre gives her a reserved smile behind her glasses. “So, is everything alright with Grantaire?”

Enjolras looks alarmed. “Why yes? Everything’s fine with Grantaire. We keep on exchanging opinions and, you know, discussing stuff.”

“Good,” nods Combeferre, the smile not yet ended. “I think you’ve changed ever since you met her. You look more relaxed, you’re questioning more things.”

Enjolras stares at her, feeling warmth spreading on her cheeks but just then her phone buzzes. “I will leave you to it,” winks Combeferre and Enjolras really does not like her best friend’s tone.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:13]** sorry I’ve been sick

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:13]** I may soon die

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:13]** u were lucky u met me

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 19:13]** What? What are you talking about?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:14]** I have a fever

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:14]** and I’m hacking up a lung

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:15]** I’m so snotty I will die

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 19:15]** Sorry to break it to you but I fear you’ll most likely survive

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 19:15]** Sorry you’re sick though

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:16]** I CAN’T OPEN AN EYE BC IT’S SO TEARY

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:16]** i have no lungs enjolras

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:17]** the struggle is real

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:18]** in my will I leave my hot lingerie to Courfeyrac

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 19:18]** if you can find a way to ship it to France

Enjolras can hardly keep herself from laughing even though she’s feeling relatively worried and mostly sorry that Grantaire has to go through this

**You’re calling Idontgrancare**

 “Hey,” Enjolras says, “are you on your own?”

“Jehan is here, boiling some twisted sick remedies like the creepy sexy druid that xe is. Ponine was here earlier.” Grantaire’s voice is a hoarse croak and Enjolras’ chest tightens up uncomfortably when she thinks of her all alone and miserable.

“Have you taken anything for the fever?”

“Yeah, whiskey.”

“Be serious.”

“I’m wild.”

Enjolras smiles at the impersonal screen but the sound of a hacking cough takes the smile away. “That sounds bad.”

“I’m not dying, okay?”

“You said you were.”

“That was just me being drunk and dramatic.”

“Why the hell did they let you drink?”

“I didn’t. Not a lot, relax Artemis.”

It’s a bit hard for Enjolras to relax right now, especially when her room suddenly feels so empty and the space between her fingers even more while she types her essay on the other open window of her computer. In all honesty, she can hardly concentrate on her work. She doesn’t even know what Grantaire looks like but for some strange reason she’s feeling a whole new kind of concern and interest for her, suddenly all she wants is to have her here, to tuck her in bed and kiss her heated forehead, to make sure that she’s alright and to give her everything she ever might need. Enjolras has never felt more alone, especially with Combeferre in the other room, and most importantly she’s never felt such a painful need to be near someone who’s so far away. “I wish you were here,” she hears herself saying for the first time in forever, and immediately regrets the violent flush that spreads on her face, “so that I could keep an eye on you.”

“I always wish you were here.”

Enjolras forgets how to breathe and there is silence for a while, which not even Grantaire’s cough interrupts. Her heart is pounding in her head and she’s feeling warm, so warm as if she’s the one with the fever. She pulls her knees to her chest and hugs them tightly, her face aching from trying to breathe and not to smile at the same time.

They spend the rest of the evening talking, Enjolras abandoning her essay and putting on her earphones when Combeferre goes to sleep. Soon Grantaire sounds exhausted so they hang up. Enjolras is about to fall asleep as well, curled up under the covers when she feels the ever so familiar buzzing of her phone.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 23:50]** I’ll never fuckin sleep again, u can have my lungs

Enjolras sighs with a smile and texts Joly.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 00:02]** Joly says go see a doctor

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 00:03]** Joly can fuck me sideways and get me an insurance

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 00:05]** Here. Joly says apply Vaporub on your feet and put on socks before you go to bed.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 00:05]** Joly is a sick motherfucker

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 00:06]** No you’re sick. Joly is clever.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 00:06]** I’m doing it

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 00:06]** my feet smell of eucalyptus

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 00:07]** this is fuckin disgusting

*

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 11:56]** Are you feeling better?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 12:17]** I had a full night’s sleep I didn’t cough all night u don’t understand IT WORKED praise Joly

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 12:17]** I O U my life

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 12:17]** u brightened my day

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 12:18]** that’s so sappy I’m disgusting

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 12:18]** don’t worry it’s the fricking fever

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 12:20]** You brighten my day too :)

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 12:21]** Grantaire?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 12:23]** Nvm get weel soon okay?

*

Grantaire hasn’t slept in two nights.

Enjolras hasn’t been on for two nights and two days. Eponine has come to drag Grantaire outside but she refused to follow. She’s spent her time reblogging soft porn and rolling cigarettes. Jehan has tried to attract her attention with knitting or painting but Grantaire has been curled up on the pillows with her sketchbook and her pencils all around her, tearing every page that she hates and tossing it away as not even her sketches seem to cooperate. The three of them get beer and pizza and spend their day in the smelly room until Jehan has to leave for a poetry reading and Eponine to meet with Gavroche. Grantaire has that ugly, empty feeling in her stomach and she tries not to think but a million thoughts twirl in her head. What if she fucked up like she always does? What if Enjolras simply got bored of her? How could she come to think they’re friends? They don’t even know each other. Internet friendships can’t work. _Enjolras has a life,_ she thought, and that was the thought that stung more than any other. What if she shows she cares, what if she laughs at her jokes and scolds her when she’s drunk? Enjolras doesn’t really care because she has other people who make her happy, people she sees every day, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Joly, people who make her laugh, people who bring her food when she’s too caught up in her work to remember to eat, people with whom she shares her rent and with whom she’s grown up together. Grantaire is away, thousands of miles away and will never be a part of it. _She doesn’t care for you, god she doesn’t,_ Grantaire keeps repeating to herself all day and, by the end of it, she’s so fucking drunk and her lungs are full with smoke and she’s fucking satisfied about it, in a pretty masochistic way.

Eventually a sign flashes on the screen of her laptop and Grantaire’s heart does that stupid flutter in her chest, a sigh of relief carrying away the hugest weight.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:45]** Hey, you in?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:46]** I am agog, I am aghast, is Enjolras online at last?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:46]** Sorry, I was at the hospital.

Grantaire’s smile freezes on her face. Everything feels numb and frozen and her fingers rush mechanically on the keyboard.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:46]** What? What are you talking about?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:47]** what in Salazar’s name happened??

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:47]** Don’t worry nothing serious, Ferre insisted we’d go

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:47]** I hit my head at the protest

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:47]** enjolras what

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:47]** WHAT

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:47]** wHAT the fuck are u talkin about

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:47]** wHAT PROTEST????

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:47]** I’d told you about the protest

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:48]** We were so busy organizing everything lately, that’s why I was not online

 _A protest. Cops and blood and_ people _and Enjolras in the middle of it all, gorgeous and radiant, her voice powerful, her fist in the sky…_

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:48]** …

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:48]** I didn’t pay attention

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:48]** Do you ever pay attention?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:48]** DO I

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:49]** dO I PAY FUCKIN atTENTION

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:49]** Anyway I’m ok

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:49]** U HIT YR HEAD

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:49]** I didn’t even get a concussion

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:49]** ha

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:50]** HA

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:50]** hear, hear?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:50]** she didn’t even get a concussion

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:50]** Listen Grantaire, it was supposed to be peaceful ok? We didn’t know it’d get so violent

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:50]** …

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:50]** violent

_Like in her dream._

**Idontgrancare [Today, 20:51]** oh my god this is shit

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:51]** it’s a huge pile of shit

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:51]** Just because you don’t believe in it DOESN’T MEAN IT’S SHIT

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:51]** fuck u

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:51]** fuck your beliefs

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:52]** No fuck you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:52]** I seriously don’t understand what’s wrong with you

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:52]** do u seriously think you’ll change the world?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:52]** by getting urself KILLED??

_No don’t say that, don’t type out you fucking piece of shit. Just a dream, it was all just a dream. She’s not pale and cold, you’re not waking up again and again from your drunken slumber to find her there, bloody and already dead, her hand extended to you._

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:53]** You need to calm down

_Just a dream._

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:53]** Nobody got killed, you’re being irrational

_You’re being irrational._

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:53]** It’s okay, I’m okay, calm down

It takes a while for Grantaire’s hand to stop shaking and for the tight knot in her stomach to loose and let her breathe properly. She hates her, she hates Enjolras and _god how she loves her._

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:54]** sorry I flipped out

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:54]** u should be sorry tho

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:54]** I’ve nothing to be sorry for

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:54]** I didn’t want to worry you

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:55]** u did a shit job at that

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:55]** you’d promised me you’d be careful

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:55]** I never promised you anything

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:55]** promise me now

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:56]** ENJOLRAS

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:56]** Yes Grantaire

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:56]** promise me

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 20:56]** promise me you’ll try not to die

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:58]** Yes

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 20:58]** Yes, I’ll try not to die

It’s a beautiful night, warm and peaceful. Jehan gets Grantaire out of her room by force. She lies on the rooftop, balancing her laptop on her abdomen, a light breeze stroking their faces. Jehan has brought tequila and ice cream. They exchange songs. I Will Follow You Into the Dark is playing on the laptop and Grantaire has never felt calmer in her whole life.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 22:18]** I’m at the balcony with Ferre and Feuilly

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 22:18]** they’ll be jealous that you’re talking to me

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 22:19]** Don’t be an idiot

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 22:21]** It’s a beautiful night

The time on her laptop changes to 22:22 yet still it’s different from where Enjolras is. Grantaire feels Jehan’s cold hand on her wrist and she instinctively raises her eyes on the sky. A star is falling and she can feel Jehan pressed against her side, holding xyr breath. “Make a wish,” xe whispers.

Grantaire shuts her eyes at the sky and, for that very moment, they’re together.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 22:22]** I know


	2. We talked until two and then she said It's time for bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:52]** Grantaire I want to ask you something
> 
>  **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:52]** Is this art blog yours? 
> 
> **Idontgrancare is typing…**
> 
> **-**
> 
> **Idontgrancare is typing…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the rest of the story, I'm not feeling satisfied enough about it but this was all I could do. The title is of course from The Beatles' Norwegian Wood. God there were so many songs literally written for long distance angry lesbian relationships, I loved listening to them while writing it! Again sorry for any way in which I might have offended anyone and for embarrassing mistakes, please tell me anything you can see! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and commenting, you literally are the oxygen I go on with, and special thanks to Screamingpoet and StarberryCupcake, Les Amis' group prodigious love children <3

**Idontgrancare [Today, 18:29]** I’m dropping out

Enjolras raises her eyes, bewildered with the message that flashes on the screen of her phone. It’s strange, she realizes with a sudden pang of guilt, how Grantaire knows everything about her studies and education and, even though she feels like she knows Grantaire well enough, she had never asked her about her own.

Her friends are staring at her, obviously perplexed. Joly is looking concerned and Feuilly’s eyes are fixed on her phone in her hand. “Sorry,” she blurts out, her gaze moving almost pleadingly to an equally alarmed Courfeyrac. “An emergency. Combeferre, can you take over for a minute?”

Combeferre’s assuring look is not enough to relieve her from the stress occurring from leaving a meeting like that but at least she knows her best friend will do an equally good job.

Enjolras finds a quiet spot and sits on a step, starting a call as fast as she can.

**You’re calling Idontgrancare**

**Call failed**

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:36]** What do you mean dropping out? As if from college?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:37]** is there anything else I could drop out from?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:37]** Are you drunk?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:37]** when am I not?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:38]** This is ridiculous. Your parents are paying for this

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:38]** good it’ll relieve them

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:38]** don’t talk of my parents as if it’ll make any difference to them

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:38]** People everywhere are struggling for an education they can’t afford and you have it, you’re about to blow it all in the air

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:38]** u r not going to guilt trip me in this

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:39]** My friend Feuilly had to work three jobs to get by

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:39]** Yet they still educated themselves through all the possible courses they could find

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:39]** I’m proud of ur friend feuilly

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:39]** but guess what

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:40]** I’m not ur friend feuilly

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:40]** my parents laugh at my work my teachers stick up their noses

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:40]** people expect things from me that I’m not willing or able to give

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:40]** and I’m tired of trying when it simply doesn’t happen

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:40]** What doesn’t happen?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:41]** I’m tired

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:41]** What are you tired of?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:42]** Grantaire!

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:43]** sometimes I can’t and they fail to see so they can all go fuck themselves

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:43]** I don’t have to explain myself to anybody

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:43]** not even to u

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:44]** especially u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:44]** You’re drunk you don’t know what you’re talking about

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:44]** how can u intervene in my life

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:44]** u don’t even know me

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:45]** I could literally be lying right now for everything I’ve told u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:45]** I believe you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:45]** Don’t listen to your parents. Don’t listen to anyone trying to tell you you’re not good enough. You’re much better than all of them put together

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:46]** You can accomplish anything you want

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:46]** u don’t understand I can’t

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:46]** fuck u don’t even know what I’m studying

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:47]** What are you studying?

It takes a while with Enjolras passionately hating herself and the circumstances for being so far away. She’s nervously tapping her food on the floor but Grantaire is not replying.

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:49]** art

Enjolras doesn’t know how to feel about it. She can’t say she hadn’t expected it but she’s still quite overwhelmed.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:49]** I never knew

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:49]** u never asked

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:51]** Will you show me your art?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:51]** that’s not the time to talk about it

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:51]** Please

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:51]** Please, Grantaire

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 18:52]** there’s nth to show u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 18:52]** Why?

**Idontgrancare is offline**

Feuilly’s art blog is one of Enjolras’ favorite places on the Internet. Enjolras doesn’t know shit about art, and doesn’t have the ability to appreciate it as much as he’d like to, but when things get stressful and she needs an outlet, scrolling down Feuilly’s site and absent-mindedly browsing through the genius color combination and brush techniques is always a good idea.

“I really need your help,” she says to her valuable friend whom she venerates and admires to the point of Courfeyrac teasing her she had a crush on them when she first met them.

“You look really upset,” Feuilly takes her hand in their own and squeezes them lightly, the right amount of pressure that Enjolras needs to cling upon those rare minutes when she’s in actual need of human contact. “Tell me what I can do.”

Enjolras takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to verbalize her inquiry. “You know a lot of art bloggers, right?”

It’s almost a couple of hours later when there’s a knock on her door and Feuilly peers inside.  “Are you busy?”

Enjolras sits up on her bed, placing her book on the lap. “No I’m free, come in.”

Feuilly steps inside and picks up Enjolras’ laptop from the floor, opening it as they sit beside her on the bed, pulling their ankles at their hips. “I had an idea,” they mutter thoughtfully. “Did you say Grantaire’s French?”

“No, she’s not French.”

Feuilly thinks a bit while the homepage of the browser loads. “Then I don’t know.”

“What? What did you think?” Enjolras is sitting on burning coals.

“I don’t know if I’m right though I might as well show you.”

Feuilly types a link on the search bar and Enjolras waits with clammy palms while the page loads. Her pulse has picked up as if the revelation she’s up for is going to change everything she’s known in her life.

It’s a forest green watercolor page, a theme she hasn’t seen before. The icon is a handwritten signature, a capital letter R.

“See? I thought that maybe it was a pun, you know Grand R? We’ve been mutually following each other for a while. They’re not really popular but their art is very good.”

Enjolras holds her breath as they scroll down. Feuilly’s art is amazing, that is true but _this._ Enjolras has completely forgotten how to think or function in any way properly. The colors are stunning, the compositions abstract and complex, Enjolras feels like she’s in a vertigo and she’s falling, she’s twirling, her head is spinning and she can’t feel anything, Feuilly’s sitting next to her but she’s alone because her chest is tight and full and something’s fluttering in her stomach and _god what’s happening to her?_

“Are you alright?”

Enjolras doesn’t reply because that’s a girl in watercolors, all the soft shades of spring, and then there’s soft curves and fierce lines, red and blood and flames, golden rays of sun that dissolve to her hair, eyes that stare back at her with the fierce determination of a martyr and Enjolras knows, _she knows._

“Is that you?” asks Feuilly pointing at the magical works of art and Enjolras doesn’t even need to answer.

“Show me more,” she croaks, herself unable to keep scrolling down because her heart is thrumming way too violently in her head.

And then there’s a video and Feuilly clicks play and nothing’s in the room or in the world because it’s only her, Grantaire, and Enjolras sees her for the first time.

She’s far from the societal beauty norms. Her face is full, her curves uneven but her movements incredibly grateful compared to Enjolras’ awkward manner. A mop of wild curls reaches her shoulders and her eyes are pale and blue, so blue that Enjolras is sure that her gaze has sucked all the oxygen from the room.

She’s beautiful.

And next thing she knows, Grantaire is taking a guitar on her lap and she’s singing, it’s her, her hoarse voice only now it’s so gentle and sad and _breathtaking,_ her gaze distant, looking at the camera but not seeing anything there, and before she knows it the song has ended and her pale lips fall shut and the screen goes black but Enjolras wants more, _needs_ more.

_No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white, just our hands clasped so tight waiting for the hint of a spark…_

Something is empty in Enjolras’ stomach, and something in her chest is so full she’ll explode. Feeling numb all over, she stands up to make some coffee.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:52]** Grantaire I want to ask you something

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:52]** Is this art blog yours?

**Idontgrancare is typing…**

**-**

**Idontgrancare is typing…**

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:55]** I saw your video. You play the guitar beautifully

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 21:56]** I can’t sing to save my life

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 21:59]** how did u find it?

**Idontgrancare is offline**

Enjolras sits in front of her screen completely numb, wondering what she’s done wrong this time. She swallows several times, takes a sip of her coffee but it’s gone cold. With a feeling of discomfort that doesn’t seem to go away, she spreads her notes at her feet and tries to work. For the tenth time this week, Enjolras fails.

*

Grantaire drinks. When Eponine comes, they drink together. When Jehan comes, she vomits in the toilet. When she wakes up, sweaty and sick in her bed, they’ve all left.

Grantaire calls Montparnasse.

*

_I once had a girl or should I say she once had me_

**Idontgrancare [Today, 01:06]** u hate me don’t u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:06]** Of course I don’t hate you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:06]** On the contrary, I admire you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:07]** You’d never told me you were so talented

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:08]** u don’t have to say that, u know

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:08]** I don’t have to, I want to

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:08]** Because I believe it

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:10]** Are you ok? We haven’t talked in a while, I’m worried

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:10]** How was your day?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:11]** Are you currently listening to music?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:11]** I’m always listening to music

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:13]** Care to share the link?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:13]** We used to do that...

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:14]** whtever you say

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:15]** Norwegian Wood?

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:15]** not real music?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:15]** There is no such thing as real music but if real music was a thing The Beatles would definitely be that

**EnjolrasoftheABC is calling you**

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:17]** No

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:17]** Let’s turn the camera on, my Wi-Fi is feeling strong enough today

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:18]** why

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:18]** I want to see you

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:18]** does it matter how I look like?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:19]** Grantaire I already know what you look like

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:19]** I watched the video, remember?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:20]** I just want to see your face

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:20]** why?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:20]** Because

 **Idontgrancare [Today, 01:20]** it’s not important

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 01:20]** You’re wrong

Grantaire’s pulse is racing while the call loads and she sees her own face appearing on the screen, hair tangled and brow sweaty, dark circles under her eyes. Thankfully her room is dark enough for the image to be blurry. A part of her wants to curl up and hide in a dark place, but another part is dying to see Enjolras, who soon appears on the other half of the screen. Her blond growing hair is up on a bun and she’s wearing a huge red t-shirt. There is a small smile on her face but she looks tired. Grantaire’s heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

“Have you been taking enough rest?” she hears herself asking before Enjolras even has the chance to speak. She sees the blurry image to open her mouth, then shut it again with a small sigh.

“Don’t worry about me.” A pause. “You look tired yourself.”

Grantaire brushes it off with her hand. “’m okay,” she mutters, feeling far from it the longer she stares herself on the video.

“It’s strange to finally talk face to face – well, sort of.”

 _Strange._ That is all. It’s fucking weirding Enjolras out, to talk to Grantaire and her hideous face, Grantaire whom she probably had imagined less plain, better looking Grantaire, cool, sarcastic Grantaire. Instead it’s strange. Grantaire swallows it. It’s okay. Far better than she expected it in fact.

They chat for a little while. Grantaire can now see Enjolras now lying on her bed, beautiful as sleep reaches for her eyelids. “I can’t keep myself awake any longer,” she finally murmurs. “Will we talk tomorrow?”

“Sure,” replies Grantaire.

And the screen goes black.

*

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [18:27]** Hey you in?

**EnjolrasoftheABC is offline**

**Idontgrancare [19:58]** hey sorry I wasn’t in

 **Idontgrancare [19:58]** hope you’re ok

 **Idontgrancare [20:02]** I have a date, talk to you later

Enjolras reads the message again and again, unable to believe her eyes. Why is she so shocked? Of course Grantaire has a date. Grantaire goes out almost every night. Grantaire works. Grantaire doesn’t go to her classes anymore. Grantaire drinks, Grantaire smokes. What had made Enjolras believe that Grantaire wouldn’t have a mate?

 _The fact that she’s never talked to you about them,_ says a tiny voice in Enjolras’ throbbing head.

Yes but there’s a lot Grantaire likes to keep quiet about, and the realization is so sudden and so strong, hitting Enjolras like a punch in the stomach again and again. Grantaire has fun. Grantaire meets people. Of course she does. Grantaire goes out with people. Grantaire takes them in her place, _in her bed._ There was nothing that should have made Enjolras believe otherwise.

_But the way she talks to you sometimes, the way she makes you feel important to her, the way she worries and the way she shouts and curses you._

That’s because they’re friends, they’re nothing but friends. Maybe not even that. She just saw her face for the first time yesterday.

 _Yes but it_ feels _different. You don’t understand, you don’t understand…_

“Hey. Are you alright?”

Enjolras raises her eyes. Combeferre is standing at the door, her messenger bag passed on her shoulder. “We’re going out, we’ll visit the typing center and then the Abortion Community.”

“Is our appointment with the manager today?”

“No it’s next week but I’d thought you’d like us to have a look first, find some additional information for the syllabus.”

Enjolras feels like she’s going to throw up. “Do you mind if I stay inside? I have to finish some stuff. Do you think you can make it on your own for today?”

Combeferre looks relatively baffled before making a cautious step inside the room. “Sure, we will be okay. Enjolras, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m just tired okay?” replies Enjolras, her voice slightly more prickly than she’d liked it. “Sorry, I’ll get a nap, I’ll be fine,” she cracks a smile for Combeferre, who chews on her lower lip, not returning the smile.

“You know we’re here if you need to talk, right?”

“Thanks, Ferre.”

“Call us if you need anything.”

“Sure, will do.”

She’s left alone in her room with a lump that doesn’t seem willing to leave her throat. She even considers taking said nap even though that’s something she never does but everything seems dull and empty and her chest is tight, but then there is a knock on her door and Courfeyrac steps in.

“I thought you’d left with Combeferre,” Enjolras says from her bed.

“Combeferre didn’t like the thought of leaving you alone,” Courfeyrac smiles tenderly, making her way to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress, playing with her electric blue nails before raising her huge doe eyes and staring at Enjolras behind her frings. “And she’s right, isn’t she?” she punches Enjolras playfully on the hip. “You’re going to drown yourself in revolutionary fervor and unrequited love you don’t even know you possess and then try to overthrow a government or two.”

Enjolras is gaping at Courfeyrac, ready to shout at her, but her friend is fast enough to throw her arms around her shoulders and, before she knows it, Enjolras’ muscles have untensed and she’s sitting on Courfeyrac’s lap, burying her face in the other woman’s shoulder. “Don’t laugh at me,” she says in a muffled voice.

“I’d never laugh at you, you angry precious duckling,” chuckles Courfeyrac, placing a kiss in Enjolras’ locks.  “Talk to me,” she whispers, and her voice, her familiar perfume, the soft fabric of her shirt, Courfeyrac is the most comforting thing that’s happened to her in so long and Enjolras starts talking. She hears her voice verbalizing things she didn’t even know she had in her head, things she’d never had believed she’d say. She’s beautiful, she’s talented, she draws and she sings so beautifully, what is she going to do _she misses her so much,_ how can they be so far away?

“Tell her,” Courfeyrac gives her a proud smile, brushing a blond lock off her face. She doesn’t say much, Enjolras suddenly sees how important a progress this is for her, and how relieved Courfeyrac looks. “Tell her what you told me.”

“I can’t,” groans Enjolras, feeling her cheeks burn. “She hates me.”

Courfeyrac stares at her blankly. “You’re going to give me an apoplexy. Or cavities. Or both.”

“No, she really does, you should have heard our last conversation!”

“For a confirmed genius you’re a real dork sometimes.”

“She’s going on a date tonight.”

Courfeyrac looks alarmed, and heaves a sigh. “Tell her Enjolras, before it’s too late.”

Courfeyrac’s last words are like a splash of cold water on Enjolras’ face. With her friend next to her, she pulls her laptop on her knees.

Before going on her main blog, they open the art one – Courfeyrac wants to see it. Enjolras almost jumps up on her bed when she sees a new post. It’s the lyrics of You Are My Sunshine illustrating two hands which are gradually letting go off each other.  It makes her insides clench tightly.

**Idontgrancare is offline**

**EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 22:16]** How did your date go?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 23:28]** I love you

She collapses on her bed and buries her face in the pillow, determined to fall asleep and drive herself into oblivion.

She doesn’t sleep all night.

*

Grantaire opens a bleary eye, feeling the smudged mascara pulling on her skin, tingling painfully. Her head is spinning violently, a dull pain causing her members to throb. She’s not in her room, not in her bed. The room she’s in is dark and the only indication that it’s morning is the few stray sunrays trying to invade through the cracks of the shut, old window shutters. The bed she’s in is not empty though the smooth skin of the owner is not touching her own, they’re not sleeping tangled on each other, instead she’s slept like a rock, mouth open and arms stuck on her sides. That’s what most mornings waking up with Montparnasse feel like. She has grown to appreciate the distance in the atmosphere, the fact that Montparnasse never brings her breakfast in bed or even makes her coffee, ze doesn’t even bother to leave before her and leave the apartment empty. Everything’s casual, Grantaire has even woken up more than once to find another girl or guy in the kitchen, one that _she_ definitely can’t recall sleeping with and she’s perfectly okay with that.

Montparnasse is still sleeping when Grantaire lets a pained croak, feeling the hangover piercing through her bones. Her hand blindly reaches for her phone, she finally locates it on the floor and she turns on the shitty Wi-Fi. It’s a habit to check her Skype before everything else but in her still half asleep mind there’s no reason to be excited or worried. The message flashes on her screen and she immediately takes it for a dream because what else can it be? She blinks a few more times with more force, pressing her eyelids together until her head hurts, and opens her eyes again.

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Yesterday, 23:28]** I love you

It’s the strongest explosion of adrenaline and whichever fucking hormone is causing her that, all the feelings and the worry and the guilt and the pain and the sheer shock, and Grantaire doesn’t even have a minute to process that information or to think about panicking because she’s completely broken. Her eyes are still and fixed on the string, she can’t move and she’s trying breathe but she can’t because it’s lost, everything is lost and everything is over before it even began, and nothing can ever work because they’re so far away from each other and they will never get it, and at the same time it’s impossible and unbelievable and it can’t be her, it’s Artemis, a majestic, powerful goddess but most of all she’s Enjolras, human, wonderful Enjolras who’s accepted her and embraced her, gave her everything and then took it with a blink of her eyes, it can’t be her telling her she loves her and she can’t have fucked everything up _she can’t…_

“Grantaire for fuck’s sake are you still alive? Are you going to die in my fucking bed? I can’t have to hide your body, today, I've got a laser appointment!” Montparnasse is shaking Grantaire’s shoulders, zyr usual composure shaken in a way Grantaire has never seen before, otherwise completely comfortable in all her naked curvy glory. Zyr words are cold and sharp as always but zyr touch is warm and collected, palms cupping Grantaire’s face and forcing her to look at zyr. “Listen to me,” ze says, “whatever the fuck is going on in your wasted head, it is going to be okay. It always is. I mean, if you’re careful with the colors you wash together in your laundry, at least.” It’s weird for Montparnasse to try to comfort someone and Grantaire doesn’t think she’ll get used to it.

Montparnasse eventually stands up terribly distressed zemself and calls Eponine for immediate assistance. Eponine soon bursts into the apartment and punches Montparnasse instinctively because she’s sure it’s all her fault, so Montparnasse ends up hissing menacingly to both of them and eventually makes them tea and brings the alcohol.

When ze returns in the room Grantaire is slightly shaking, her eyes fixed on a spot of insignificant importance and Eponine has almost had an apoplexy, strangled Grantaire, burst into hysterical laughter twice and banged her head against a wall. “She loves her!” she’s shouting, throwing up her arms in exasperation and Montparnasse is positively creeped out by those sick rituals. “You’re so fucking ridiculous, both of you!” “You don’t understand,” Grantaire keeps saying but Montparnasse hardly thinks Grantaire understands anything at all herself. Eventually ze hisses ze won’t put up with this nonsense anymore and goes out, positive that ze’ll be in need for some shoplifting after all those shenanigans.

*

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:04]** I’m scared

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:05]** What are you scared of?

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:05]** that u’ll get tired of me

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:05]** it won’t work

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:05]** some days I can’t even get out of bed

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** You don’t need to get out of bed to chat on your phone

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** I can make you happy while you are in your bed

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:06]** It doesn’t have to be complicated

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:06]** how can this be true

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:06]** you’re perfect

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:07]** You won’t have to change anything

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:07]** I just want us to be together

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:07]** Artemis?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:07]** Yes R

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:07]** pls promise me we’ll be ok

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:08]** We will be ok

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:08]** I love you

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:09]** I love you

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:09]** god I love you

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:09]** Fuck it hurts

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:09]** what hurts

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:09]** what

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:09]** I really want to kiss you right now

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:10]** Do you think it will always hurt that way

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:10]** if that’s what pain feels like

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:10]** then consider me forever a masochist

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:10]** I already miss u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:10]** I’m here

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:10]** I need to hug u

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:11]** when will I hug u

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:11]** Soon

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:11]** Tonight

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:11]** I will be there

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:11]** It doesn’t have to hurt. Soon we’ll be together

 **Idontgrancare [Today 13:11]** promise?

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:12]** I promise

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:12]** Grantaire

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:12]** I really want to see your face

 **EnjolrasoftheABC [Today, 13:12]** Please?

With a smile that makes her muscles hurt and with her heart exploding in her chest again and again, Grantaire turns on the camera.

Enjolras is there, beautiful and glowing with her shoulder length hair and a shy smile that’s so uncharacteristic of her. She holds up her hand and waves and Grantaire wants to place warm kisses all over her palm.

“I want to hold your hand,” mutters Enjolras.

“Close your eyes,” Grantaire hears herself saying, feeling warmer and calmer than she has felt in so long. She sees Enjolras’ blurry image shutting her eyes and she slowly shuts her own. “I’m holding you, Artemis,” she murmurs, “I’m holding your hand”.

Grantaire opens her eyes. Enjolras opens her own. It’s 13:13. “Make a wish,” she whispers.

They both do.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm so sorry for the possibility of having offended anyone, please tell me everything so that I can correct it!  
> I will probably write more, like Enjolras finding Grantaire's art blog idk? Thank you for reading!  
> Also I don't know if you can tell that I'm in love with fem!Courf but I'm in love with fem!Courf.


End file.
